Surviving Summer Season 3

รสกลมกล่อม สดชื่นมาก น้ำหวานถูกดื่มจนหมดก่อนจะเติมใส่อีกครั้ง และแล้วมื้อนั้นก็จบลงพร้อมกับความตึงเครียดเข้ามาปกคลุม "เจ้าไปเรียนรู้วิชาทำอาหารพวกนี้มาจากไหน" "เอ่อ ช่วงนี้ข้าชอบอ่านหนังสือ เลยได้เรียนรู้วิธีการทำอาหารจากในนั้น" เธอก้มหน้าซ่อนไว้ ไป๋หู่เองก็ไม่ได้คาดคั่นเอาความต่อ มือหนายื่นไปจับแก้วน้ำผลไม้ ถึงจะไม่มีกลิ่นหอมเท่าชาที่กินประจำ แต่มีเอกลักษณ์ทั้งของคาวและของหวาน เห็นทีต้องเก็บนางไว้ใกล้ตัว "เจ้ามีฝีมือดีเช่นนี้ก็ทำอาหารให้ข้ากินซะ" "ห๋า แล้วท่านกวงจิ้งล่ะคะ" "เหวินเซียวแจ้งให้กวงจิ้งหยุดทำอาหารให้ข้าตั้งแต่วันนี้เป็นต้นไปแต่ยังทำให้เซียนคนอื่นตามปกติ และเลื่อนขั้นให้นางเป็นแม่ครัวของที่นี่แทน" อีกฝ่ายเรียกคนสนิทและสั่งการไป "ขอรับ" ทั้งสามมองตาโตไม่นึกว่านอกจากไป๋หู่แล้วจะมีคนอื่นอยู่อีก "เจ้าจะใช้ครัวที่นี่ก็ได้ข้าไม่ว่าอะไร" ชายหนุ่มลุกขึ้นเต็มความสูง "ค่ะ" "จริงสิ เจ้าชื่ออะไร" "เฟ่ยเฟ่ยค่ะ" หญิงสาวช้อนสายตาตอบนัยน์ตาเป็นประกาย ไม่ว่ายังไงเทพไป๋หู่ก็ยังเป็นคนที่เธอชื่นชอบ

After Mom passed, it was just me and Dad, depending on each other. I’ve always had poor health, and people used to taunt me, calling me a “sickly, doomed child.” He kneeled by my bedside, making a promise. “I swear, I’ll get you the best treatment, no matter what. You’ll never suffer again!” Eventually, he became a powerful CEO, going so far as to buy an entire private villa just so I could recover in peace. However, his assistant assumed I was his mistress.  She came in with a group of security guards and surrounded me. “So, you’re the cripple who’s been seducing Mr. Johnson?” “Let’s see if you can still act high and mighty after I’m done with you!” She kicked over my wheelchair, yanked me by the hair, scratched up my face, and finally cut off my hand. Barely clinging to life, I lay there until Dad came back. She held up my severed hand, presenting it to him. “Mr. Johnson, this was a spy sent by a rival company. I took care of her for you.”

After five years of marriage, my husband, Abel Brooks goes on a business trip that lasts half a year. When he returns, he brings his first love, Cora Garrett, back. She's already three months pregnant. Abel says that life is tough for her and wants her to move in with us temporarily. I object, and he tells me to know my place. His tone is scornful—it seems he's forgotten that the villa we live in was one of my wedding gifts. He and his family have leeched off me all this while. This time, I'm going to stop providing for them. I smile and call my assistant. "Draft a divorce agreement for me now. To think a live-in son-in-law would have the nerve to bring his mistress home like this."

My boyfriend tells me he's a monster in a game, but I think he's lying. What monster would have washboard abs and defined obliques? And what monster would keep asking me for hugs and kisses? Everything changes when I end up in a survival game one day. I'm stuck in a dark, cold ocean when the main boss of the game, a scary tentacled monster, entangles me in its grasp. When it speaks, the voice is gentle and familiar. "Kiss me, Ara."

After failing the mission, the System gave me one final chance, and to succeed, I had to give birth to a child. The System promised that if the baby were born safely, it would reveal the truth to my target and give me one last glimmer of hope. However, six months into my pregnancy, just when things seemed stable, I was dragged onto an operating table in the middle of the night by my husband and family. My husband stopped the anesthesiologist from giving me any pain relief. “Let her feel the pain,” he said coldly. “We need to keep the kidneys as fresh as possible.” My parents instructed the doctor to draw my blood. “She’s the same blood type as our precious girl. Let’s take some for backup.” Even my childhood friend, the boy who had always been by my side, was the one to slice open my abdomen.  They wanted my kidneys to save my sister, who was dying from kidney failure. No one believed I was pregnant. No matter how much I begged, they went ahead with the operation, tearing me open. The baby couldn’t survive, and I died on that operating table. However, as my soul began to fade away, something strange happened. Those who had murdered me—my husband, my parents, my so-called friend—they all lost their minds.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband's childhood sweetheart called, claiming a burst pipe at her home. Without a second thought, he ditched our celebration to play handyman. Moments later, Vivian Duffy's social media lit up with a smug post. [No matter when or where, my Superman arrives at one call. How should I reward him?] Accompanying the post was a photo of scattered condoms and torn clothing on the floor. I forced a smile, picked up my phone, and dialed a number. "My pipe is broken. Care to fix it?"

I head to a real estate sales office with my fiancée to purchase a marital home, where we meet a two-faced realtor. He starts off by complimenting my fiancée for everything she's achieved at her young age, especially since she can afford to drive a Rolls-Royce. Then, he hints that I'm wearing a fake watch and pretending to be rich so that I can live off her money and get a house without paying a cent. When he learns that we're buying our marital home, he raises his voice and says to me, "I think the sugar mommy who bought you two houses the last time was pretty nice. Oh, wait—I forgot that you have more than one sugar mommy, Mr. Bellway. Do they know of one another's existences?" I smile. My so-called sugar mommy is my actual godmother, but there's no denying that she's rich. Unfortunately for this realtor, my fiancée is nothing but a poor student whom I sponsored back in the day!

The kindergarten was engulfed in flames. My four-year-old daughter was trapped inside. I pleaded desperately with my firefighter husband, "Nina is upstairs!" He snapped impatiently, "You're just trying to stop me from saving Dana's daughter. How could you be so cruel? Dana is fragile. If she loses her child, it will destroy her. She won't survive this." That night, he emerged from the fire carrying Dana's daughter, instantly becoming a hero. Even at midnight, when I wept by the side of our daughter's ashes, he was still with Dana. "Samuel Leif, you'll pay for this!"

The day of my wedding photoshoot, my family's adoptive daughter tugs my veil off and asks loudly, "Aren't you our family's adoptive daughter? What are you doing here? Today's the day Ian and I are supposed to have our wedding photoshoot. Aren't you going to disgrace Ford Group by being here?" In the past, I would've run away in tears. Unfortunately for her, I'd been reborn. I slapped Aspen Miller and retorted, "What right do you have to speak to me? Who do you think you are, having a wedding photoshoot with Adrian? Are you worthy of being associated with Ford Group?"

I had been in love with Anton Stark for fifteen years, and it was always sweet until another woman appeared. He began to act distant and used every trick to force me into a divorce. I clung to him desperately, even though I was battered and bruised, hoping he would change his mind. But eventually, I woke up. Some relationships should come to an end.